


Old Flames

by freakforfanfic



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Mob Boss Keith (Voltron), Organized Crime, Slow Burn, Some fluff probably, Suspense, a dash of smut, klance, pidge is a girl in this, will update tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-09-16 14:44:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16955961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freakforfanfic/pseuds/freakforfanfic
Summary: Lance is robbed one night during his shift at the bank he works at. He's surprised when the criminals seem to recognize him and run away in fear. Upon investigation, he discovers that he is on a "no hit" list, created by his old sweetheart Keith, who is now running an elite global crime syndicate. That's when Lance decides to dip into his past and reignite an old flame.





	1. Chapter 1

Lance glanced at the clock. Ten more minutes until closing. Ten more minutes until he could escape the confines if his little cube at this little bank and get back to the apartment to feast on whatever delicious concoction Hunk has created that night. He thought lovingly of the facemask waiting for him and wiggled in anticipation. Plus, he hated closing alone at night. To put it frankly, it was creepy as hell.

He went back to the front of the lobby and looked for things to distract himself.  He crouched below the counter to deposit the days funds into the safe. He punched in the combination, listening to the tumblers shift together opening the small safe. At that moment, he heard the bells above the door chime, signaling someone’s entrance. He checked the time on his phone. Five minutes until closing.

“Seriously? You’re going to be _that_ guy?” Lance muttered begrudgingly under his breath as he popped back behind the counter and plastered a fake smile on his face. “What can I do for you tonight, sir?”

The man approached the counter, clad in dark jeans, boots, and a black sweatshirt. A black scarf was tied around his face, hiding the lower half of his face. Lance tried to push away the thread of suspicion that curled around his thoughts at the sight of the man.

_Stop being ridiculous, McClain. It’s just a man and a scarf. Maybe he has a large mole or a really intense scar or something. Nothing to worry about._

The man’s voice was muffled, but comprehendible as it said, “I’d like to make a withdrawal.”

“No problem,” Lance chirped. “How much – “ the words died in his throat as he heard a chilling click and was looking down the barrel of a very real gun, mere inches from his face. He felt rooted in place, unable to move, speak, breathe. He forced himself to look into the man’s eyes, electric green. They’d almost be pretty if they weren’t attached to the hand that was holding a weapon that could possibly end his life at any moment.

“Everything in the register and safe should do just fine,” the man said, breaking the deafening silence. Two men suddenly entered, flanking the gunman on both sides, clad in the same dark attire and sporting identical blank scarves concealing the lower halves of their faces.

“Keep your hands where I can see them pretty boy, and don’t try anything funny, unless you want to eat a bullet.”

Lance never wanted to be called pretty again.

The two strangers split to the opposite ends of the counter and stood behind him, watching every move he made. With trembling hands, he was able to open the drawer of the register and began placing bills into a bag. With that accomplished, he lowered himself again below the counter to the gaping safe. He felt the heavy weight of eyes boring into his back, so he snuck a quick glance at one of his guards.

“Wait.” Lance immediately stalled, a stack of bills still in his hands. He felt his stomach go cold as one of the men behind him spoke again.

“Look at me again.”

Lance reluctantly turned his head and looked into the eyes of the man who had spoken. He watched as the dull hazel eyes widen and frantically look at his other accomplices.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” he said panicked, with a touch of – was that fear?

“What are you talking about?” answered the man holding the gun, “We’re not leaving here until we finish the job.”

“You’re telling me you don’t see it?” the other man stressed.

“See what?” the third man asked. The brown – eyed man gestured wildly at Lance as if in explanation.

“It’s _him_ ,” he concluded. Something about his tone must have struck a nerve in the other two men. The last thing he heard was  the gunman whispering, “Oh God,” as all three men looked at Lance with fear and darted out the door. He heard the bell signaling their departure, and the second he was sure they were gone, Lance locked the doors and called the police.

\------

The police only questioned Lance for a short while. There really wasn’t much to say; Lance hadn’t gotten a good look at the men, other than the color of their eyes, and although it had felt like hours, the whole encounter only lasted about fifteen minutes. When Lance relayed to the police about the men’s odd behavior, they merely shrugged it off, and told him to think of it as “his lucky day” that he even got out of there with his life.

_Sure thing, I’ll just mark this in my calendar as the luckiest day ever._

Once the police had left, Lance called Hunk for a ride. There was just no way he could drive right now. Hunk, being the angelic soul that he is, drove them both back to their apartment. The drive was quiet; Hunk had questions, but knew Lance would talk about it when he was ready.

“I’ve never thought about it before,” Lance whispered suddenly from the passenger seat.

“Thought about what?”

“Death. Dying. I was suddenly faced with the possibility that I wasn’t going to make it out of there. And I don’t think I’ve done enough with my life to really be okay with that.” He glanced at his friend, who focused on driving, but still emanated concern.

“Well I’m glad you did, buddy. You have so many people that are going to help you through this. What do you say we get you home and you can just soak in a nice hot bath?”

“Can I use a bath bomb?”

“Of course you can, buddy.”

\------

Lance awoke from a fitful and nightmare induced sleep early the next morning and headed straight for the coffee.  Hunk, who appeared to be annoyingly awake, was lounging on the couch watching television.

“Have you seen the news?”

Lance grumbled sleepily in response.

“They caught the guys who robbed the bank last night!”

Lance was instantly alert. He went and joined Hunk in front of the television. The pristine female reporter continued with the story.

“Police apprehended three masked figures last night after an attempted bank robbery. According to the teller on duty that night, the three men entered the bank minutes before closing and demanded cash at gunpoint. They were found a couple miles south of the bank with empty bags, so it is unclear of their motive. They’re being held without bond in the county prison until a date is set for the trial.”

Lance left the room silently and emerged a couple minutes later, tripping over his pant legs as he hastily pulled them over his hips. He snatched his sweatshirt off the hook by the door, shrugged it on, and grabbed his keys.

Hunk rose from the couch, making to join him. “Wait, where are you going?”

“I need to talk to someone.”

\------

Lance sat on the opposite side of the clear glass window pane and picked up the telephone mounted on the small wall surrounding him on both sides. He recognized the man sitting opposite him. No moles or scars adorned the now revealed lower half of his face as he sat down.  Although this time he was wearing a wrinkled, orange jumpsuit and a fierce five o’clock shadow, Lance would recognize those eyes anywhere, those sharp green eyes.

The man picked up his identical phone, those eyes never leaving Lance’s.

“Come here often, pretty boy?”

Lance flinched at the nickname. He focused on regulating his breathing. He came here to get answers. He was not going to let this man get under his skin.

“What is your name?” Lance deadpanned.

“Rio.”

“Why didn’t you kill me last night, Rio?”

Rio pursed his lips in a mock pout and said, “Are you telling me you didn’t want to see me again?”

Lance was growing impatient. “Trust me, after this you won’t be seeing me again. Now, let me ask again. Why didn’t you kill me last night?”

“Who said I had any intention of killing you?” Rio rebuffed.

“Why else do you point a gun at somebody? I think you did plan on killing me, but something stopped you. What was it?” He watched as Rio sighed, laying the phone on the counter as his face furrowed in concentration. Decision finally made, he picked up the phone and leaned closer to the glass. He looked to either side, assured that a guard wasn’t listening in as he whispered,

“You’re on a list.”

“A list?” Lance repeated, confused.

“Yes. A no hit list.”

Lance scoffed. “You’re joking right?” Rio’s expression remained humorless. “You’re not joking are you.” It was more of a statement rather than a question. He shook his head.

“He has a list of people that are under no circumstances to come to harm. And god help anyone who goes against his list.”

“Who’s list? Who is this guy?”

“My boss.”

“Who’s your boss?”

“Everyone calls him the Red Lion.”

Lance smiled a bit, amused at the odd name. “Okay, but what is his real name?”

“Keith Kogane.”

Lance froze. Literally, he felt as if every part of his body was ice cold. _You’ve got to be absolutely freaking kidding me._

“Of course it is.”


	2. Leap of Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance investigates more about the "Red Lion" while taking a trip down memory lane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. School is hard so I'm sorry this took so long

The ride home was a blur. Despite the concerned questions Hunk peppered him with as soon as he walked through the door, Lance decided not to tell him about his little field trip just yet. Not until he had more information. He escaped to his room, flopping down on his bed in frustration. He thought back to his conversation with Rio and shuddered. There was no way he was ever going to be doing that again. There was always the possibility that he could have been lying, he was a criminal after all, but the fact that he named Keith of all people as his boss, it was just too large of a coincidence to ignore. 

 

_ Hm, Keith.  _

 

He hadn’t seen or heard from Keith in years, not since high school. Even then, communication wasn’t always their strongest skill. The memories of high school sparked a thought, and he walked over to his closet. He sifted through shelves, rummaged through boxes, making a triumphant noise when he found what he was looking for. He returned to the bed, laying the yearbook out in front of him. He flipped through the pages, stopping at the senior class photos. He skimmed through the smiling profiles before stopping at his own picture. Not a hair out of place. Sports, accolades, clubs, all accompanied the dazzling smile. The quote under the picture read, “Why reach for the stars when you can be one?” 

 

His picture was the stark opposite to that of its neighbor, Keith Kogane. The space next to the picture for extra curriculars was blank. No quote under the picture. They were honestly lucky he showed up for picture day. Black bangs brushed his forehead and peeked at the nape of his neck. Violet eyes gave a disinterested stare at the camera without even a hint of a smile. Despite looking tousled in the photo, Lance knew the feel of his hair under his hands. Smooth, soft. When the light hit it just right, it was so dark it almost appeared purple. He could still hear the breathy moan he would elicit when he gave it a hard tug. 

 

He continued thumbing through pages, and something slipped from between the pages and fluttered into his lap. It was a photo strip from an old photo booth. Lance smiled; he remembered when this was taken. He ran his fingers along each individual square. The top showed both boys wearing confused expressions, obviously trying to figure out when the picture was going to be taken. Keith was sporting bunny ears in the second photo, provided by Lance. The third showed Lance kissing Keith’s cheek, making Keith’s face flush an adorable pink. The strip was missing the bottom photo, the edges rugged where the photo had been torn off. 

 

_ That’s weird. I don’t remember doing that. _

 

Lance and Keith’s relationship was like fire to gasoline. When things went smoothly, it was warm and full of light, but when it wasn’t so smooth.. It was like an uncontrollable forest fire, consuming anything and everything around it. Keith oftentimes was controlling and accusatory. Mix that with Lance’s uncontrollable need for approval and necessity to please people, and it wasn’t a surprise that they decided to end things after they graduated. They were kids. 

 

Now they were adults, and things still seemed just as hectic. Somehow Keith knew not only where he worked and his schedule, but what he looked like now, years after the last time they had saw each other. And he’s told his… employees not to hurt him? Why would he care that much? And what the hell does Red Lion mean? He needed more information, and he called the only person he could think of that could find it. 

 

“Pidgeon!” 

 

“Lancelot!” Pidge answered fondly. “Is everything okay? Hunk told me about what happened at the bank.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah everything’s fine. I need you to see if you can find out some information on somebody for me.” 

 

“Shouldn’t be a problem, who is it?” 

 

“Someone who calls themselves the Red Lion.” He heard the sound of muffled clicking. You can always count on Pidge to have something with a keyboard nearby. 

 

“So far… Nothing. I mean, unless you’re looking for an actual lion painted red or what appears to be some seriously messed up sexual innuendos. There’s not much to find really. No social media, no public pictures, I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to be looking for here.” 

 

“Anything.” More clicking.

 

“Wait.. This could be something. A few months ago police intercepted potential gang activity downtown. It appeared to be some sort of outpost for the distribution of illegal weaponry. They couldn’t pinpoint exactly the people involved, and the only evidence they could find about a culprit was a crudely spray painted lion on one of the back walls. This looks like some serious stuff Lance, what’s going on?”  

 

“I’m having to write a paper for class about local crime activity.” The lie lumped heavily in his throat. He hated lying to his friends, but he just didn’t feel ready to involve them yet. 

 

“And you couldn’t do this yourself?” she remarked suspiciously. 

 

“You know how bad I am at research Pidgeon,” he whined, making sure to sound extra pitiful. 

“Is there anything else about him?” 

 

Pidge’s eyebrows perked in interest. “Him? How do you know it’s a man?”

 

_ Shit.  _

 

“It just sounds like a manly crime is all,” he recovered smoothly. 

 

“The police don’t even know anything about this person. Is there something you’re not telling me?” she persisted. 

 

“Did you find anything else or not?”

 

“Negative, ghost rider.”

 

“Well, hopefully that should be enough for me to get a jumpstart on this paper. I’ll talk to you later.” Lance attempted to not let his disappointment leak into his tone. 

 

Pidge paused, wanting to question him further but decided to let it go. For now. 

 

Lance thought about what Pidge had discovered. Why would Keith be involved in gang activity? I mean, he was always a little edgy, but never  _ illegal activity _ edgy. On the other hand, they haven’t exactly stayed in touch so who knows what road he went down after high school. Looks like this was something he was going to have to figure out on his own. He pulled up his contact, thankful that he never deleted his number. 

 

What’s the chance he even had the same number? 

 

Only one way to find out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed, and I'm going to try to be quicker with updates! Love love love comments and kudos! Let me know if you have any requests or suggestions for oneshots for a little project I'm doing on the side ;)


	3. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance meet face to face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought and thought and thought about how I was going to have their phone conversation go, and I realized... in person meetings are so much better. And who doesn't want to imagine Keith in a suit?

The second Lance pressed dial, he felt his brain switch to panic mode.

 

_ First ring.  _

 

There’s no way he even has the same number. This was a stupid idea. 

 

_ Second ring. _

 

I should totally just hang up. 

 

_ Third ring.  _

 

What if he picks up? 

 

_ Fourth ring.  _

 

What do I even say? 

 

_ Click.  _

 

SHIT. 

 

“This is Allura speaking, how may I direct your call?”

 

Well that’s definitely not what he expected. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I think I have the wrong number. I was calling for a man named Keith.” 

 

“I’m Mr. Kogane’s assistant. May I ask who is calling?”  _ Assistant? Mr. Kogane? Was he missing something here?  _

 

“Oh, um yeah. Tell him it’s Lance. Lance McClain.” 

 

“And the reason for the call?”  _ Right, so I talked to a criminal today who claims that he has me on some sort of no harm list which is super weird, and he seems to know everything about me which is a super big invasion of my privacy, and I wanted to ask him about it?  _

 

“I was just hoping to talk to him about something.” 

 

“One moment please.” The line went silent as he was put on hold. Was he seriously going to go through with this? Is he sure he can handle all the emotional undead that is going to rise up from this? The choice was made for him as the line reconnected. 

 

“Mr. Kogane would prefer to meet in person. What day are you available so I can make an appointment?” Lance recited his schedule to her, and they settled on meeting that coming Saturday. Three days from now. Three days for Lance to get his shit together and figure out what he was going to say. And what he was going to _ wear. _ He scribbled down the address Allura provided him and hung up the phone. 

 

Seems that he’s still as untalkative as ever. Good to know some things never change. 

 

\------

 

Keith was sitting in his office when he heard the phone beep. He picked up the phone, 

 

“Yes?” 

 

“Mr. Kogane there’s a man on the line wanting to speak with you. He says his name is Lance McClain.”  _ Lance _ . He felt his throat constrict. There’s a name he never thought he’d hear again, much less hear  _ from _ . He knew as soon as he saw the news coverage on TV about the failed bank robbery he was bound to hear from him sooner or later. 

 

Shiro told him choosing that specific bank was a bad idea, but when was he ever known for making  _ good _ decisions? 

 

“Sir?” Allura questioned, interrupting his thoughts. 

 

“Yes,” he choked out, “I’m here. Have him make an appointment and clear my schedule for whatever day he says he’s free.” Lance is probably going to have his fair share of questions, and it’d be best to have them answered in person.  

 

“Yes sir.” 

 

“And Allura?” 

 

“Yes?” 

 

“Get me a drink.”

 

\------

Lance pulled up to a set of polished iron gates. He double checked his texts and the address that Allura gave him; yep, this was the place. To his left he saw a small speaker and call button. He rolled down his window and pressed the button. 

 

“Do you have an appointment?” 

 

“Uh, yeah. Lance McClain?” 

 

The gates in front of him opened with an automated clang, and he drove forward. He continued down the circled driveway to the front steps of a two-story, very expensive, looking office building. Someone approached him and offered to park his car, which he happily accepted only because he had no clue where to go. He tentatively approached the door. 

 

_ It’s now or never.  _

 

He pushed open the door and headed towards the front desk, his steps echoing against the marble floors. 

 

A young, dark skinned woman sat typing furiously behind the desk. Her silver hair was pulled tight in a large bun with wisps of it framing her angular face.  _ This must be Allura _ . She said something Lance couldn’t hear into her wireless headpiece before addressing Lance with an expectant stare. 

 

“Oh, um Lance McClain here to see Keith Kogane. I believe we spoke on the phone.” 

 

Stare unwavering she said, “Yes, go ahead and have a seat. I’ll let him know you’re here.” 

 

He made his way toward one of the couches, stomach flip flopping. What’s the first thing you say to your ex boyfriend who may be stalking you? He tensed as he heard footsteps approaching. He looked up to see -  

 

“ _ Shiro? _ ” _  This day is going to be full of surprises.  _

 

“Lance!” the older man happily exclaimed. “When Keith told me you were coming I could hardly believe it! You look good!” He pulled the smaller man into a strong hug. Shiro was several years older than Lance, but he remembered looking up to him in high school. As the school football star, valedictorian, and one of the most popular guys in school, he was the complete opposite of his adopted brother. 

 

Lance gave him a few friendly pats before stepping back.  _ Still in just as great of shape, I see.  _ His grey tailored suit hugged his figure nicely, and Lance noticed a white streak in his bangs. Simple, but sleek. Just Shiro’s style. 

 

“Yeah, I figured it was time we catch up.” 

 

“Well, come on back, and I’ll take you to him.” Lance followed him down several hallways, losing track of how many twists and turns they took. “He’s been cooped up in his office all day. He’ll never admit it, but I’ve seen him change his outfit about six times today.”  _ Wait, was Keith nervous?  _

 

“I’m surprised he owns six different outfits,” Lance scoffed. Shiro simply gave him a sideways glance and a sly eyebrow raise. Shiro finally started to slow his pace. 

 

“It’s that first door on the right; it should be open. Have fun,” he remarked with a wink and walked away. 

 

Floor to ceiling windows encased the wall on either side of the door, and he took a minute to peek inside. Keith had his back to him, looking out one of the other windows, but even with the restricted view he could tell how Keith had grown. Like  _ damn _ , was he bigger. Broad shoulders trimmed down to the same narrow waist, but he was taller. Same mullet, but pulled back in a small ponytail. 

 

_ I wonder if his bangs still brush his eyes and if it’s still just as soft when I touch it.. FOCUS McClain. You’re on a mission.  _

 

He approached the slightly ajar door and rapped his knuckles against it a couple times. Keith whipped around, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of Lance in his doorway. Lance noticed his tie matched the purple glint in his eyes, contrasting starkly with the blackness of the suit. The paints tailored to his legs and cut off right above the ankle, showing off shiny leather shoes.

 

“I feel underdressed,” Lance teased. 

 

“No, not at all. You look… perfect.” I mean, he had seen pictures over the years, but nothing compared to Lance, here. In the flesh. The hue of his shirt brought out those same blue pools that he’d happily drown in and that smirk that made him tingle all over every time he saw it. And those khakis should be  _ illegal. _

 

Lance took a few more steps in the room, eyes wandering. “You should really bump up your security, what if I was a serial killer?”

 

“I told them it wasn’t necessary. I know you’d never hurt me.” _ Wait, is he serious?   _ Silence ensued.

 

“And how exactly do you know that? That’s what I came here to talk to you about. What makes you think you still know anything about me? I’m not the same person anymore.” 

 

“And you think I  _ am _ ?” Keith countered, heated. He took a calming breath before continuing. “You said you wanted to talk.” 

 

Sure, on the way over here he wanted to talk. But now, in this place, surrounded by so many things he  _ didn’t know _ , he wanted to scream

 

“Yeah. I talked to your little friend Rio, and he told me all about your list, which I still don’t fully understand. I don’t understand  _ you _ . I had to beg you to wear a tux to prom, but now I show up to see you wearing an ensemble that easily costs more than my monthly salary. And this office? I don’t know what you do, or what you’ve  _ done _ , but for some reason you seem to know all about me.” 

 

Keith sighed. He understood where Lance’s anger was coming from, but there was still so much that he couldn’t tell him. Still so much that could be dangerous for him to know. 

 

“You’re right.”  _ Well there’s a shocker. _ “There is a lot about me that you don’t know. If this place isn’t apparent enough, it should be clear that I’ve changed a lot since you knew me. But believe me when I say that I never stopped caring about you. I never stopped thinking about you, wanting to know you were safe. My work, which I can’t exactly explain yet, put me in a pretty powerful position. I was able to use that power to check in on you, granted, without you knowing. I knew you’d probably never want to see me again, but I just needed to know you were okay. The list Rio told you about is comprised of people in my life that I cherish the most, people that if any harm came to them, I would be lost without. I never expected you to get caught up in my world. I just wanted to protect you in the only way I knew how.” 

 

All the anger Lance was fueling fizzled out. 

 

“Do you know what they did?” Lance whispered. He continued without even waiting for a response. “He pointed a gun to my face. I could literally see down the barrel it was so close to me. They threatened to kill me, but I knew it wasn’t an empty threat. I thought I was going to die.

 

I haven’t been able to sleep because of the nightmares. Except this time, they don’t stop. Each dream is just me watching myself die.” A stray tear escaped from his eye and slid down his cheek. He startled when he felt Keith’s hand on his face, wiping away the tear. 

 

His expression softened. “I’m so sorry Lance. You weren’t even supposed to be there. You don’t work nights. You were never supposed to get hurt.” Lance retreated from his touch, angry tears now rushing down his face. 

 

“ _ That _ ! That right there is what I’m talking about!” Lance increasingly got louder with each tearful shout. “How do you even know that?! How could you even put me in a position where there was even a possibility where something could go wrong? How can I even trust you now?” 

 

Keith flinched at each question, each one a small dagger piercing his skin. He honestly had no answer. As if any answer would have been good enough. 

 

“Lance, please let me try and make this up to you.” 

 

“How?” 

 

“I know it’s going to take a lot, but maybe we could start with dinner? I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” 

 

Lance paused. He had come here for answers, and here Keith was, offering them to him. It was just dinner, right? What harm ever came from having dinner? 

 

“Fine, but I get to choose. And it’s your treat.” 

 

Keith smirked. Yes, it most certainly was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wouldn't expect updates this quickly in the future, but the love this fic has received so far has really pushed me to get this out as soon as possible! I hope you liked it! I'm thinking of a little smut next chapter?? hmu on tumblr @freakforfanfic

**Author's Note:**

> So I intend for this to be a multi chapter fic, but in between chapters I'm also taking requests for all things Voltron! Pop over to my profile to get more info! Hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter, as always kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! Feel free to chat me up on tumblr (@freakforfanfic)


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